


The Eye of Semptor

by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylsdarkplace/pseuds/Syls%20Darkplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Argowynth/Jensen is a thief out to secure the Eye of Semptor, a star sapphire the size of his fist. Little does he know, a warrior sent by the rightful owner is also seeking the gem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eye of Semptor

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the video game Thief, which ought to be a movie with Jensen as Garrett, and a question posed to Felicia Day at VegasCon 2014 in which she was asked what would Jared and Jensen’s RPG characters be.

The city was on lockdown again and a curfew had been instituted. In some ways, that made Argowynth’s job harder. With fewer people on the streets to distract the guards, he had to keep to the upper walkways and rooftops. Every slip of the hand or rattle of a gutter could draw attention to the thief making his way through the tendrils of fog and shadows.

He paused, crouched on a flimsy wooden walkway a story above the cobblestones as a pair of guards passed below.

“If the streets are so dangerous, why must we be out then?” one grumbled.

“Well, to enforce the curfew, you fool,” the other replied. He took a swig from a flask and smacked his lips. “And with the citizens in doors, there’s little danger to us now, is there?”

The first guard made a snorting sound. “You believe this talk of the gloom then, do you?”

“You don’t?”

“You do?”

“People are dying, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but gloom? No. This is different ...” The two rounded the corner, and their words faded away.

Argowynth held his position a moment, listening for footsteps or voices, before dropping to the pavement beside a barber shop. Still, he stuck to the shadows as he approached the Museum of Archana. He circled around the side of the looming edifice. A row of arched barred windows ran along the foundation. He crouched beside the one and took out his lock picks. The lock was old and rusty, but within moments he felt the mechanism release and a good tug opened the lock. Grasping the top edge of the grate, he let it slowly drop open to minimize the squeal of the hinges.

He paused to see if the sound had attracted attention before swinging the window itself open and dropping into the room below. He reached outside and pulled the grate shut before swinging the window closed. He hoped the patrol wouldn’t notice the disturbed lock since they didn’t keep close eye on the museum. Few people would care to risk breaking in after all. The museum was filled with items from realms near and far – most magical, many deadly.

Argowynth had never been inside himself, but promise of a purse full of gold coins could lead a man to take risks he’d never imagined in the past. All he needed to do was get to the chamber of Austinia treasure and steal the Eye of Semptor – a green star sapphire the size of man’s fist.

“How hard can that be?” Argowynth muttered under his breath. If his patron was right, only two guards occupied the museum at night, and he’d been shown a map to the inner crypt in the tower that held the Austinia treasure.

Argowynth made his way to the door and into the lower corridor. Low flames burned in sconces along the wall to the right. He hugged the left wall as he made his way toward the east staircase. Approaching a turn in the hallway, he pulled up sharp when he spied a guard around the corner. The man stood packing tobacco into a short pipe, so he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Argowynth took advantage of the man’s concentration on his task, quickly stepped around the corner, cudgel in hand, and brought it down on the man’s skull with a satisfying thud. The guard went limp immediately, and Argowynth dragged his body to a shadowed corner where he eased it the floor.

“To sleep, perchance to ...” Argowynth nudged the man with the toe of his boot. “Hm, push up daisies,” he said with a shrug. Making a quick search, he took a small pouch of coins and a cloak clasp with jet accents and pocketed them.

“Waste not, want not,” he whispered with a smirk as he made his way to the base of the stairs. He paused to listen and let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light of the stairwell before creeping to the top. The doorway opened to the main gallery of the museum. He scanned the expanse. There was almost no place to hide, and that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

The main staircase lay to his left. He had to take it to the inner crypt. Quickly scanning the gallery once more, he rushed across the marble floor to the staircase. The low murmur of voices behind him sent a surge of adrenaline into his veins, and he slunk up the staircase. Catching the banister rail, he spun himself behind the large pillar to the right of the staircase at the top and crouched there. He took a couple deep breaths to get his heart to slow and peeked back at the gallery below. The two guards strolled past a display of armor. The chuckle of one floated up the staircase.

“Looks like that assurance of two guards was wrong,” he whispered to himself. He rose and started along the main corridor toward the tower. Cupboards and glass-fronted cases lined the hallway on each side. He didn’t know if his mind was playing tricks on him or it was just an effect of the torchieres reflecting off the glass, but movement kept catching his eye as he passed. At one point, he paused to look in a case. Lying on a field of blue velvet was a bracelet in the spiral of a serpent with ruby eyes. As he gazed at it, the thing turned its head and the red enamel tongue flicked at him.

“Holy Goddess of the Lightfingered!” he exclaimed. “Fucking creepy ... seen some shit, but this place ...” he murmured. He just wanted to get the gem and get the fuck out. He made his way to the tower door on cat feet. Not surprisingly, he found it locked. Taking out his lock picks, he methodically worked the mechanism. The click of the lock opening seemed like a rifle shot in the silence, but no one responded to the sound.

Argowynth slipped inside and eased the door shut behind him. A stone walkway circled the curved inside wall of the tower while arched bridges led to the center pillar like the spokes of wheel and stairways dropped and rose to platforms at irregular intervals. Getting to the upper vault would require navigating the correct series of staircases back and forth between the outer walkways and the inner pillar.

“Ah, fuck me,” he cursed. He recalled his patron’s advice. “Okay, ‘right and up’ makes sense.” Left-handedness was associated with darkness. That would be the way to go if he were searching for a Dallanese artifact, that of his own people, but the Austinia were associated with light, honor, and loyalty. “Whatever,” he mumbled and made his way to the right along the wall. He took the first staircase up and the next on the right to the walkway, right again to the pillar. He was about to make a right onto the next staircase when the stone almost beneath his feet seemed to flicker. He halted as the staircase before him disappeared, and he nearly stepped off into a pit of darkness below.

“By the Left Ball of Asden!” He pulled himself back with the unique balance of his breed. “Fuck this place.”

He took a small pouch from his pocket and opened it. Dipping his fingertips into it, he sprinkled the shimmering revelation powder before him, which revealed a staircase otherwise invisible to the human eye just to the right of where the first had appeared to be.

“Fucking asshole mages,” he muttered and began to climb. The staircase led to what should have been the central column of the tower, but instead was a vaulted chamber. “Impossible,” he whispered and then, “Fuck my luck,” because standing before the door to the inner chamber was a warrior with a sword raised to break the lock.

“No!” Argowynth exclaimed and leapt forward with a cudgel aimed at the man’s temple. The warrior was surprisingly fast for his size, but rather than swinging his sword as he turned, he blocked Argowynth’s swing and grabbed the thief by the throat, propelling him back against the wall. Argowynth dropped the cudgel and brought a small dagger up in the other hand. The warrior anticipated the move, grasped Argowynth’s wrist, and pinned it to the wall.

“Well met, thief,” the warrior said with a smug smile and the heavy accent of a Austinian. The man was tall, broad shouldered, two long braids framed his face and shaggy bangs nearly covered his vulpine eyes – full-bred Austinian.

“Ah, fuck me,” Argowynth cursed with immediate regret when the Austinian raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mean ... I, just ...”

Dimples cut into the warrior’s cheeks as he tried not to smile. “Yes, pretty thief? Should I kill you or fuck you?”

“Just, let me go,” Argowynth growled. “If you use force on that door, you’ll never get it open.”

The smile faded from the warrior’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you proposing?”

“I can open it,” Argowynth said.

“And then what? We both want the same thing, don’t we? The Eye of Semptor. It belongs to my people.”

Argowynth swallowed against the palm pressed to his throat. His right hand was beginning to go numb from the grip of the long fingers wrapped around his wrist. The warrior’s gaze followed the flick of Argowynth’s tongue over his lips. “Why is it so important?”

“It is the symbol of my people,” the warrior said.

“No, it’s something more,” Argowynth said. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be here, in this place warded with magic, and someone wouldn’t be willing to pay me a king’s ransom to steal it.”

Argowynth sagged against the wall as the warrior released him and stepped back.

“You’re not just pretty,” the warrior said.

“What?” Argowynth gasped.

“You’re pretty and clever.” The warrior smiled. “Open the door.”

Argowynth twirled the dagger in his fingers. “And you’re an idiot.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, pretty.”

“Don’t call me that,” Argowynth said as he sidled toward the door. He never took his eyes off the tall Austinian. At this distance, he could get a better look at the man who wore expensive but practical brown leather boots and breeches, an embroidered tunic of ecru linen, and cloak of deep red trimmed in wolf fur.

The warrior swept his hair back from his brow. “What should I call you?”

“My name is Argowynth.”

“Argowin?”

“Yes, and you?”

The warrior muttered something that began with an “S.”

“What?”

This time the low mumbled sounded like Smmuffle.

Argowynth froze and stared. Even in the gloom, he could see bright spots of color on the warrior’s cheeks. “Pardon me?”

“Snuggles.”

A loud snort of amusement erupted from Argowynth’s throat, and he clapped a gloved hand over his mouth. He sucked in air through his nose, but couldn’t hold back the chuckle that turned to laughter.

“Fuck you, Dallanese,” the warrior said. He seemed more sulky than threatening. “Shut the fuck up before you attract attention.”

Argowynth was bent at the waist trying to catch his breath. He wiped the tears of amusement from his eyes.

“How about I just call you Asshole?” the big man pouted. “Shut the fuck up and open the door, Asshole.”

Argowynth held a hand up palm out and caught his breath. “You can call me Jensen.”

“Is that what you’re called en famille?”

Argowynth nodded.

“And I’m Jared,” the Austinia said with a look that Jensen would have sworn was flirty, if the guy wasn’t on the verge of throttling him moments before.

“Jared,” he repeated, trying to wipe the amusement from his face. “Right.” He turned toward the door, but kept the giant in his peripheral vision.

“But you’re still pretty,” Jared said with an amused lilt.

“And you’re still an idiot,” Jensen said with a roll of his eyes. He took out his lock picks and knelt before the door, which quickly fell under a shadow. “You’re in my light ... Jared.”

“Oh, sorry.” The shadow moved to Jensen’s right.

The moment he set the picks to the lock he felt the low current of magic tingle in his hands. He withdrew the picks.

“What is it?” Jared asked as he crouched beside Jensen.

“Magic,” he replied. He looked into the fox-tilted eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what’s so special about the Eye?”

Jared bit his lip and dropped his gaze. Neither spoke a moment. Jared looked back up. “Who are you working for, Jensen?”

“I don’t know who wants the Eye,” he said. “My patron gave me the assignment, but I don’t know who hired me.”

Jared sighed and frowned. “The Eye holds the power of armies, but only to the Austinia. It’s useless to others,” Jared said. “My people are in the midst of a civil war. I embarked on this mission for my queen. The only others who have use of it are her enemies.” His weighted gaze fell on Jensen who resisted the urge to squirm and looked away. “Surely, even a Dallanese can appreciate that it is more precious than gold ... to us. The lives of my people hang in the balance.”

Jensen groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t work with Jared, he was working against him and his queen. “Fuck me,” he mumbled.

“Pretty, you keep offering like that, and I might have to take you up on it,” Jared said.

“Shut up!” Jensen hissed. “Just shut. The fuck. Up.” He turned back to the door and observed the lock.

“So you’ll help me get the Eye for my queen?” Jared asked.

“If this lock doesn’t kill me or turn me into a toad or something, I’ll get this door open,” Jensen said.

“You see, I was sure you were better than the rest of your race,” Jared said.

Jensen’s mouth dropped open. “You _are_ a fucking idiot. You know that, right?”

Jared chuckled. “The Dallanese are a disloyal lot, so being better than your fellows must be a complement.”

Jensen shook his head. “Fuck ...”

Jared’s hand caressed his knee. “Let’s get the Eye first.”

“I need to come up with a new curse,” he said, but his cock twitched in his pants as the heat of that huge hand seeped through the cloth. The lock picks seemed to vibrate in his fingers, and the tingling crept up his wrists and into his arms. As the lock clicked open, a bright light flashed and white-hot pain shot up his arms.

“Jensen, Jensen,” Jared’s voice was far away. “Hey, come on, pretty. Open your eyes. You aren’t dead.”

Jensen gasped, sucking air deep into his lungs as the pain in his chest subsided. Jared’s arm was around his shoulders and the stupid Austinian was patting his cheek.

“Stop it!” he hissed and twisted his face away. “Let go of me!”

Jared helped him stand. “You’re cute.” He chuckled.

“Cute?” Jensen glared.

“Yeah, like a wet cat.” Jared smiled.

“Idiot.” Jensen scowled.

Jared grinned. “Asshole.”

They stared each other down a moment, until Jensen realized he kind of missed the arm around his shoulders. He shrugged and took a deep breath. His chest still ached.

“You okay?” Jared asked. The smile was gone.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Okay.” Jared pointed at the door, which stood open a few inches. “You’re good.”

Jensen raised his chin. “I am a dishonorable Dallanese.” Without waiting for a response, he went to the door and eased it open. The stone chamber appeared to be empty. “Ah, fuck ...” He could feel Jared’s presence right behind him – the heat of the other man’s body so close.

“What the hell?” Jared said. “It’s not here.”

“No, it is.” Jensen said. “Maybe ...” He took out the pouch of revelation powder and tossed a handful into the room. There in the center was a pedestal with a glass case on top.

“Wow ...what is that stuff?” Jared asked.

“Ancient Dallanese secret,” Jensen said. He moved into the room and circled the pedestal. Lying in a nest of amber velvet was a star sapphire as green as Jensen’s own eyes and the size of Jared’s fist. He wondered if it was warded as well. If the lock on the door knocked him on his ass and nearly stopped his heart, what would messing with the pedestal do? What was he even doing risking it? He stopped and looked up at Jared with his head tipped to the side.

“What?” Jared asked. His expression was so wide open and genuine.

Jensen pursed his lips and shook his head. He looked over the stone pedestal with its spiral base, octagonal top, and the glass case on top. “I’m going to get this open. You grab the stone and run.”

“Jensen ...”

He took a step forward, and felt for the catch he was sure was on the underside of the case. His deft fingers caught and flipped it. As the glass melted into nothing, Jared snatched the stone from the bed of velvet and headed for the door. Before Jensen could take a step back, he saw the stone column begin to move. The spiral took on the scales of a snake. He leapt backward, but the tail shot out and caught his ankle. He twisted around and tried to crawl toward the door, but a coil wrapped around his wrist and another around his thigh. Why hadn’t he taken the bracelet as a warning?

Jensen rolled to his back with his dagger in his free hand and found the serpent had grown impossibly long. Coils covered the floor, and its two heads wavered above him, fangs exposed. As one of the heads struck at him, there was a roar across the room, and the other head turned toward the sound. Jensen stabbed at the head just inches from his face. It retreated, but only for a moment. With the second strike, he slashed it just below the jaw. It hissed and black ichor sprayed from the wound. He struck again, and his dagger pierced the serpent’s eye. It flailed that head as Jared charged the other and decapitated it with his sword.

Jensen lay in a looped mound of scales, covered in black gore. Jared let his sword fall to his side and heaved in a breath. Jensen saw the weight of the stone in a sack hanging from Jared’s sword belt.

“You were supposed to run,” Jensen said.

Jared huffed. “But it would be dishonorable to leave a comrade behind.” He stepped over a pile of coils and held his hand out to help Jensen up. “Come along, pretty. Let’s see if we can get out of this place with our skins intact.”

Jensen took the offered hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Jared put enough power behind it that Jensen was propelled against the warrior’s solid chest. Jared’s arm went around him. Jensen felt a little light headed.

“You all right?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, the jolt from that door ...” Jensen pushed himself away from the warrior.

“Right,” Jared said, but he let his hand linger on Jensen’s shoulder a moment.

Jensen shot him a look that made Jared drop his hand. “Come on, Snuggie,” Jensen said.

“Asshole.”

Jensen smiled and led the way back to the invisible stairs.

“Wait,” Jared said and grabbed his arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

“There’s stairs here,” Jensen said. “Wait ... how did you get in?”

Jared pointed up. “I climbed the outside and came in through that skylight.”

A slow grin spread over Jensen’s face. “Well done. Maybe there’s some Dallanese in you after all, big guy.”

Jared’s lips twitched. He couldn’t seem to settle on an expression between insulted and pleased. “Yeah?”

Jensen chuckled. “Come on. This way is easier.” Besides, he’d like to avoid a climb like that. He still felt off from the blast and his skin was beginning to itch and burn where the snake’s gore clung to him. He tossed out some revelation powder to reveal the stairs again but nothing happened. It simply floated downward into the abyss.

“Ah, ffffor all that’s holy.”

“What?” Jared asked.

“They’re gone,” Jensen replied. “The stairs are gone.” He looked upward. “Looks like we’ll have to take your way out.” He dropped his gaze and scanned the tower around them. “Unless ... if we can make it to that window, I think we can drop to the main roof. From there, we can get anywhere in the city.”

Jared’s eyes followed the wooden support beam to the outer wall near an arched stained-glass window.

“What walk that beam?” His gaze dropped into the darkness dozens of feet below. “Are you mad?”

“Completely.” Jensen grinned. He took the small crossbow from his back and placed a blunt arrow in it. Raising the bow, he let the arrow fly, and true to its mark, the window shattered in a rain of colorful shards. Without hesitation, Jensen ran onto the beam. His balance wasn’t up to its usual standards but he let his momentum carry him in a straight line to the opposite wall where he turned and was nearly crushed against the stone by Jared’s mass. The warrior used his sword to clear the window frame of glass and pulled himself onto the sill. He swung his long legs out the window.

“It’s a long way down, thief,” he said. “Hope we don’t break our necks.” Jensen didn’t have time to say a word before Jared dropped from sight.

“Damn it!” Jensen said and pulled himself up. Jared was standing on the rooftop below looking up, and Jensen blew out a breath before jumping after him. He landed and rolled, but instead of coming up on his feet as he ordinarily would he stumbled and would have gone to his knees if Jared hadn’t grabbed his arm.

“I gotcha,” Jared said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said and shrugged the helping hand away. The itching and burning from the snake gore was increasing. Jensen scratched at an itching spot on his neck, but quickly withdrew his fingers at the searing pain touching it caused. “Let’s go.”

They crossed the museum roof at a trot and made the narrow jump to the roof of the cathedral. Jensen’s head was swimming by the time they made it to the other side. His skin was on fire, and his chest was tight. He stopped with is hand on a gargoyle for balance.

“Hey, pretty,” Jared said. “Are you all right?”

Jensen nodded. “Yeah, so ...” He thought he’d just sit down there until he got himself together. “You still have the stone?”

“I can’t thank you enough ...” Jared’s voice seemed to be coming from far away. “Hey, Jensen? Argowin?”

He was falling ...

... or floating .... in warm water ...

... or a bed of soft ... feathers ... silk ...

Consciousness came rushing back and he tried to follow it up, but a firm hand held him down on cushions like clouds.

“There’s a ‘y’ and silent ‘th,’” he said.

“What?” Jared asked.

Jensen shook his head groggily. Crimson drapes with gold fringe made a tent above him. “Nothing ... what? Where are we?”

“At the House of Blossoms,” Jared said.

Jensen’s eyes widened. “We’re in the brothel?”

“I have friends here,” Jared said.

“I’ll bet.”

“Not like that,” Jared said with a blush. “In fact ...”

“I fact, what?” Jensen glared.

Jared shrugged. “I just told them we needed a room.”

“You ...” He realized then he was naked. “You, what?”

“No!” Jared said. “No, no, no!” He looked panicked. “I, no, I wouldn’t do that. I mean, not ... no! I had to get your clothes off. That snake gore was burning through your leathers and into your skin.” His hands fluttered over Jensen’s shoulders and chest. “I had to wash it off.”

Jensen looked down at the red patches on his skin that had been smeared with ointment. “Oh.”

“I’d never ...”

“No, of course not. You’re honorable.”

“Right,” Jared said. “I mean, not unless you make that offer again.”

“That wasn’t an offer,” Jensen said.

Jared nodded. “Right. Of course not,” he said, crestfallen.

Jensen untied the neck of Jared’s tunic and pressed his palm against the warm, smooth skin of the warrior’s chest. “It’s not fair that you’re dressed while I’m not.”

Jared eyed him uncertainly.

“Take that off,” Jensen said.

Jared managed to look both shy and eager as he pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. Jensen lay back against the cushions and let his hand trail over Jared’s chest. Jared bit his lip when Jensen’s thumb rubbed over a nipple.

“Why would your parents name you Snuggles?” he asked, fighting a smile.

“They thought it would make me tough.”

“They were right,” Jensen said.

Jared leaned over him and brushed their lips together.

“I have a confession,” Jensen said. He pulled the other man closer.

“Hm?” Jared kissed him again.

“Argowynth.”

“Mm-hm.” Another kiss.

“It means ‘pretty.’” Heat rose in his cheeks.

“Of course it does,” Jared murmured against his lips. “Beautiful.” He mouthed along Jensen’s jawline.

“Mm, fuck me.”

As Jared pulled the covers from Jensen’s body, Jensen stretched like a cat. Jared groaned and pressed his lips to the smooth skin below Jensen’s navel.

“Is that a curse or an offer?”

Jensen’s fingers gripped Jared’s hair and tipped his head up. “It’s an order, idiot.”

Jared grinned. “Oh right,” he said as he pushed his trousers down and kicked them off. Jensen’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Jared’s hard, flushed cock. It rose toward his muscled stomach and precome pearled at the slit.

“Luckily, we’re in a brothel, which is equipped for this kind of thing,” Jared said.

There was a blue bottle with a golden tassel on the table beside the bed, and Jared took the stopper from the mouth and poured oil on to his fingers. Jared straddled Jensen’s hips and reached behind himself. His eyes fluttered shut as he began to work himself open, and Jensen’s cock hardened further in anticipation. He grasped Jared’s cock and smeared the slick over the head with his thumb. Jared hummed with pleasure.

“I’m ready,” he said. He met Jensen’s eye as he coated the thief’s cock with oil and pressed the crown to his opening.

“Jared wait,” Jensen said.

Jared’s eyes widened with confusion. “What? Why?”

“Is this ... okay? I mean, you and ... a Dallane?”

“Yes.” Jared’s brow knitted. “Yeah, you chose the honorable thing.” With that, he lowered himself. The heat of his body engulfed Jensen’s cock, and the thief moaned. His hips rolled instinctively as the big man began to ride him. Candlelight highlighted the play of muscle under golden skin as Jared moved, hips rising and falling, head thrown back with the long line of his throat exposed.

Jensen gripped Jared’s thighs, urging him on, as tension pooled low in his groin until it became too much. His balls pulled up as he drew Jared down, hips rolling, and spilled his seed into his lover. Jared’s hand slid over his cock twice and pearly ropes of come fell across Jensen’s belly and chest. Jared dipped up his own jizz and licked his fingers with a grin. He wiggled his hips a little.

“You’re inside me,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed Jensen with slick lips. He planted kisses along Jensen’s throat and nuzzled under his ear. “I like that, knowing your seed is inside me.”

Jensen felt an uncomfortable twist in his chest at the words, and he was glad Jared wasn’t looking him in the eye. “More than one reason they named you Snuggles, I think,” he said as Jared nestled in against his side.

“Mm,” Jared murmured and then chuckled. “Maybe so.”

~~

Jensen awoke some time later. The candles had burned low. One had guttered out. He slipped from beneath Jared’s arm and got up. His clothing was lying on a low stool near the bed and he pulled on his leather breeches. He scowled at the holes the snake gore had eaten through them. He’d need all new leathers, and he’d soon be able to afford them. He sat on the stool to pull on his boots and then quickly dressed in what was left of his shirt, vest and cloak.

Jared shifted on the bed, and Jensen froze watching the sleeping man for signs that he was waking up, but he remained sprawled on his back with one arm above his head and a knee bent to the side. He was gorgeous and strong and ... honorable.

Jensen knelt and picked through the pile of clothes the warrior had discarded earlier. He found the bag containing the stone and pulled the drawstring open. The brilliant green gem rolled out into his hand. The fingers of his right hand didn’t reach even halfway around it. He gazed into the star at its center. With this, he’d never have to steal again.

“Pretty, what are you doing?” Jared shifted up onto one elbow.

Jensen looked up just with his eyes. “I’m not honorable,” he said. He dropped the stone back into the bag and rose to his feet. “I knew that my daggers couldn’t win against you and your sword. So, I played along until I had my chance.”

“No,” Jared said. “In the vault, you told me to take the stone and run, and on the rooftop ...”

“That wasn’t honor. It was a calculated risk,” Jensen said. “Still ... you believed that I could be. You almost had me convinced.”

“You still can be,” Jared said. He sat up and reached toward Jensen who took a step back. “You can still make the right choice.”

“For what?” Jensen asked. “Why would I?”

“For me,” Jared said. “Come with me.”

Jensen shook his head in disbelief. “Why ... would you ask that when you see me betraying you?”

“But you haven’t,” Jared said. “You can still choose ... us, what we had here in this bed.”

“You idiot,” Jensen said.

Jared held his hand out. “Please, pretty.”

Jensen sighed and gave him the bag. Jared stuffed it under the pillow. “Now, take your clothes off and come back to bed.”

“You can’t trust me.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “You just showed me that I can. Now get back in this bed.”

Jensen started to shake his head, but Jared rolled out of the bed, and bent low, he caught Jensen in the middle with his shoulder and lifted him off his feet. He turned and tossed Jensen on the bed before tackling him.

“Get off me,” Jensen protested.

“Not a chance,” Jared said and blanketed the smaller man’s body with his own. “I’m taking you home to meet my mama.”

“Your mama?”

“Mm-hm.” Jared settled in kissing Jensen’s temple, sucking on his ear lobe, and nuzzling his throat. “She’s sure to be grateful to you for stealing the Eye for her. Probably give you a lordship or knighthood.”

“What?!” Jensen squirmed beneath Jared’s weight.

“Imagine that, the first Dallanese knight of Austinia,” Jared murmured.

“Wait is she ...”

“The queen, yeah.” Jared yawned.

“So you’re ... Prince Snuggles?” Jensen asked. The only answer he got was a soft snore in his ear.

 

The End.

  
 You can blame meus_venator. She just had to make the challenge, and did someone say art?

 


End file.
